


The Bachelorette

by illbeyourwings



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, the bachelor - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-15
Updated: 2013-06-24
Packaged: 2017-12-15 00:56:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/843437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illbeyourwings/pseuds/illbeyourwings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and Scott make a bet that Stiles can't make this year's bachelor Derek Hale fall in love with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Bet

**Author's Note:**

> I have no affiliation with The Bachelor or Teen Wolf. 
> 
> This might be a little rough because I haven't wrote anything in the while but give it a chance. 
> 
> I will also be alternating POVs with Derek and Stiles. 
> 
> ENJOY MY LITTLE GRASSHOPPERS.

"Oh, Ginny's totally getting into bed with Mike tonight, the total slut!" 

Stiles Stilinski was slung across his best friends bed, yelling at the tv, his hand gripping the remote so Scott couldn't change the channel. 

"Come on, man," Scott complained, reaching unsuccessfully for the remote. "What if Allison comes over and sees us watching this crap?" 

Stiles shoved the remote down his pants and sat up. "Chicks love this stuff, buddy. She'd probably worship at your feet. The Bachelor is like the number one girly show." 

"Then why are you watching it?" Scott asked, giving up and turning towards his computer. He was researching werewolves for a history report. What a load of crap. 

"Because I need to step up by game, bro," Stiles said, his voice rising as he tried and failed to sound gangster. Its a new thing he's trying out. Be a different Stiles, maybe get some dates. "Besides, this year's bachelor is.. what's the word thugs use?" 

Scott didn't answer, going through his essay to break apart all contractions in an attempt to make his report longer. He was so going to fail. Maybe he could ask Allison to study. She got straight A's and she sits in front of him in class which is probably why he's failing anyways. Suddenly, a pillow hurtled at the back of Scott's head, interrupting his train of thought. 

"I'm gonna kill y-," Scott stopped as soon as he turned around because the face his hyperactive friend was sporting was one he knew all too well. Stiles was standing by the tv now. He had cut out his head from a picture and taped it onto the frozen bachelor. 

"Dude." 

"Stiles, you can't be a bachelor. One, you're not old enough and two, they already chose this year's bachelor."

Stiles smirked, pulling his smiling seventeen year old head off the flatscreen and replacing it onto a bachelorette. "Eh?" 

"Stiles.."

"No, dude, think about it," Stiles slid across the bed over to Scott. He positioned the swivel chair still and looked up at his best friend with a goofy grin. 

"I would be the only guy bachelorette. I would be legendary. Plus," Stiles slapped his hand against Scott's chest. "Think about the cash. Glorious, green, wads and wads of beautiful money." Stiles made a dreamy sound and Scott shook his head, pushing him away. 

"I don't even think that's allowed, Stiles. If the bachelor is straight, guy bachelorettes aren't allowed." 

"Well here, scoot over," Stiles scooched his way into Scott's chair until he gave out a pained groan and surrendered. Stiles paid him no mind as he quickly pulled up the website. "Look, it says here that anyone of all genders, ethnicities, and/or sexual orientation are eligible to apply." He threw Scott a smug look. "All I have to do is be accepted." 

"Keep reading, dumbass," Scott pointed at the screen. "You have to be twenty-one years of age." 

Stiles waved that aside. "There's nothing bribery and flirting can't do. Danny will take care of it." 

"Stiles-."

"I'm starting to think you have no faith in my shocking good looks and charm, McCall. You don't think I can do it." 

Scott shifted his weight from one leg to the other and crossed his arms. "No, Stiles, I don't." 

"Let's bet on it, yeah? Lets start simple. One hundred bucks says I make it to the first round." 

Scott grinned. "And say for some unbelievable reason you do make it to the first round. What next?" 

Stile's tongue darted across his lip. "One thousand dollars if I lose." 

Scott's eyes widened as Stile's held out his hands. He almost started to doubt himself. What if Stiles did win? He had to come up with one thousand bucks. But then his confidence came back and he shook the outstretched hand. "Well, who this year's lucky guy?" 

Stiles grinned, pressed a few buttons and almost choked when the results came up. He had to make Derek freaking Hale fall in love with him? Oh god.


	2. The Bachelor.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek Hale contemplates whether or not he wants to be this year's bachelor.

"Why would you want to find your spouse on a TV show?" Derek Hale sat at a desk, filling out the customary application for The Bachelor. The sun was shining through the window of his left, illuminating the tired wrinkles on his face.

Derek admits he's getting old and he should be settling down with a wife - but not like this. He doesn't know why his sister Laura forced him into his this. Couldn't he be normal and use an online dating site?

And why does he have to fill out the application if he's already guaranteed the spot? Laura said it's standard procedure but Derek thinks it's more of a cover for her banging the casting director. Have a rocking application and no one suspects a thing.

Derek rubs his temple as he scrawls another bullshit answer on the blank. _I feel this as an amazing oppurtunity to meet women from all around the country and aren't afraid of the cameras that will come with my fame._

Truth is, Derek would rather meet a shy librarian girl rather than a girl who signs up for a tv show where you backstab other girls and fight over men. Especially since 99% of the girls there are gold diggers just looking for another sugar daddy.

Finishing the application by clipping his picture to the packet, Derek sighed in relief and shoved it in the orange package on his desk. Stamping his name and address on it, he tossed it on the round table to be sent out later.

Derek pressed the side button on his new smartphone and rolled through his emails, then his text messages.

_You're not gonna regret this._

It was from Laura. He typed in a snarky reply and tossed reply and tossed his phone to the side.   
Derek reached from behind and yanked his shirt off smoothly, his muscles flexing as he did. Unbuckling his pants, he walked towards the shower. Ah, a hot shower would be great right now.

Five minutes later, Derek leaned against the shower wall, his head between his hands. The water cascaded down, glistening against his back. He was breathing hard, unsure of the difference between water, sweat, and his tears.

What was he thinking? He can't just go on national television looking for a wife. He can barely walk around town without people giving him pity looks. Whispering quiet hi's once he passed them on the street. Being the only two who survived the fire has been hard for the Hale siblings.

Not to mention every emotion he's kept bottled up is going to be aired on national television. His bursts of anger. The terrifying nightmares he has at night. Even the violent sleepwalking where he bust in walls and broke pictures in an attempt to repress the memories.

He couldn't do it. He _wouldn't do it._ Derek stumbled out of the shower, wrapping a towel low on his waist. No way, Laura couldn't make him. Laura couldn't even- Derek stopped. He was in Laura's bedroom now, looking for the laundry.

He sat down on her bed, eyes on the picture on the nightstand. His Mom and his Dad were holding hands underneath a livesaver ring. Their eyes were on each other, huge smiles on their faces. That was their anniversary.

If not for Laura, then for Mom. She always wanted grandkids and even though she wont be there to meet them, she'd be happy either way. Derek cradled the picture against his chest.

Derek didn't know how much time had passed, but he finally got up. He grabbed a pair of jeans off the bed - Derek doesn't do shorts - and slipped them on. Walking into the living room, he grabbed his phone. Three missed calls.

Putting the phone on speaker, and pressing play on the messages, Derek leaned against the mahogany computer desk.The first two calls were from Laura. She left a message.

_Derek, great news, the casting director sa-_

Delete. The next was from the casting director himself.

_Hello, Mr. Hale, I'm not sure if you, um, got your sister's message but we're coming by tomorrow at noon to pick you up for filming. Be ready._

Derek sighed, deleting the message, and falling backwards onto the sofa. How was he ever going to survive?

 


End file.
